


August 1984

by I_llbedammned



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angel Sex, Canon Timeline, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Music, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, References to Oscar Wilde
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-25
Packaged: 2020-07-19 10:50:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19972843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_llbedammned/pseuds/I_llbedammned
Summary: Set in the year 1984, Crowley and Aziraphale meet in a bar.  Aziraphale has a long seated idea that he has in his head and he wants to try and explain Oscar Wilde to his dear friend Crowley.  However how is one supposed to focus when there are several millennia of tension between you?Inspired by the album Purple Rain by Prince.





	August 1984

August 1984

Crowley slunk about the back of a bar dressed in a black leather coat and trousers, his usual bar the one with the dark wood and the windows out front that overlooked the most lovely garden. It was a hot summer with the flowers, gardenias on the window sill, giving off the most satisfying smell. He was greatly enjoying the smell of them, particularly because he thought that he would never be able to smell anything ever again after the incident last week. That nosy bastard Beezlebub had been asking after him and his business, poking and prodding around. He swore that they were going to flay him on the spot, which would be most inconvenient and require a whole lot of paperwork and pain that he was not in the mood for. Luckily for him, he had a quick mind and had told Beezlebub that he was in a most delicate situation and needed to fan the flames of cocaine addiction in America without supervision. He didn’t of course, the humans sought it out enough on their own, but it got him out of trouble and that was the important part.

The whole world was feeling wonderful and warm right now, just enough to where he wished he could stretch out on a rock and relax for a bit in the sun. It was perhaps a bit reptilian, but considering how much humans liked going to the beach he hardly thought that he was alone in that desire. His gangly legs splayed out on to another chair as he watched bugs crawl over the leaves and idlly heard some married man spill sweet nothings to a man who was not his wife at the bar. He likely shouldn’t be drunk at 3 in the afternoon, but there was going to be footy game later and he didn’t want to miss the fights then by being drunk. 

“Ah! Crowley! What are you doing here?” came a soft voice from the doorway. His teased out hair bobbed over his eyes as he turned to face one angel Aziraphale, who was dressed most unsuitably for this bar in a pastel blue striped linen suit with a light pink shirt underneath. His white-blonde hair was very tall and slicked back. The various rough and tumbles in black leather and torn jeans looked at him with suspicion but didn’t question it as he took a seat at Crowley’s table.

“Yes, what would I be doing in my favorite bar?” Crowley drawled, pouring Aziraphale a glass of whiskey and pushing it towards him, “The real question is what are you doing here, angel?”  
The other man, for today he certainly was presenting as a man, grinned a small grin, his eyes flicking to the side at Crowley as he spoke, “Well, I just so happen to be in the area doing a small bit of business helping a poor family find their faith again by getting jobs in the arts like they always wanted and I thought I would stop by and have a small drink to whet my whistle.”   
With a gulp he drank the whiskey and without asking Crowley poured him a double noting, “Well if you want to whet your whistle with me you better catch up. I have a bit of a head start and don’t intend on slowing down once I get a second glass.”

Aziraphale gladly drank the whiskey, breathing it out with a sharp sigh and a wince. He placed a hand upon Crowley’s fishnet gloved one before the demon could pour another shot, “As kind as your offer is of free alcohol, I was wondering if you would rather drink something a bit more gentle back at the bookshop for a bit. There is a lovely volume of Oscar Wilde I would love to discuss with you.”  
“Oscar Wilde? Come on, angel, you know I don’t like to read. It’s boring and,” he began and then he stopped himself. Aziraphale’s hand was still on his and there was a look in his eyes that shone like all the hope in the world rested upon his shoulders.

“I could, maybe read to you then? Explain the parts that seem too tedious? Aziraphale’s voice was low, as if the very nature of being asked to read Wilde to his friend was scandalous.  
“You got a record player?” Crowley asked, his shaded eyes not looking at his friend and instead looking at the bar, trying to challenge any onlookers to try and start something with him and this prep.  
“Yes, I do.” The blonde haired man looked confused, but eager as he put his hands back on his lap. Whatever Crowley was up to, he was game.  
“I’ll let you explain Wilde to me if you do me two favors.”

“One, you have to let me show you Queen on the record player, and two,” Crowley poured another double for his friend, “Drink up. We have to be even-stevens going into this.”  
Aziraphale grimaced at the whiskey, but then drank it quickly before giggling, “It’s a date then.”

They walked alongside each other, both shining brightly in the sun though Crowley couldn’t tell if that was Aziraphale’s natural glow or just an effect of him always wearing bright colors in the sun. The angel always looked so utterly at peace with the world around him that it made the demon a bit envious at times. The only moments of peace were the small ones he could steal when the higher ups weren’t paying any attention to him and certainly he wasn’t ever able to seem like he enjoyed his life. Who could imagine the scandal of a demon actually enjoying something without trying to torment anyone over it?

Aziraphale was grinning up at the birds and Crowley allowed himself a small smile upon seeing the joy on the other man’s face. In that moment he was truly alive, watching the birds flit about the rooftops and merrily chatting about a book he really enjoyed recently. The red headed man knew he would be banished to a deep, dark level of Hell if they ever caught him associating with an angel- so deep and dark that the light of Heaven and of Aziraphale himself would never be able to find him. And that was merely for associating, never mind the dirty thoughts that sometimes danced through his mind where he imagined himself making love to the great angel gently and passionately. 

Love! Why the very idea didn’t suit a demon in the slightest! He would be fine if they just thought he was fucking an angel, that sort of thing was perfect for corrupting a pure soul, but he would certainly never be allowed to have feelings or to treat him gently. Why such a thing would be sacrilege – if such a concept even still existed in Hell.

“….And so he has been truly underrated in the modern age where people feel like his language is too old fashioned. Wilde is loved for his wit but the depth of his plays can still be appreciated even today even aside from the pithy quotes.” Continued Aziraphale as he opened up the glass doors of his shop. He looked embarrassedly down as Crowley strode in, “Sorry for the ramble. I just find Wilde to be a very intriguing author.”

Throwing himself upon the brown leather couch near the record player Crowley raised his eyebrows, “No need to apologize. It’s good to listen to you ramble, I suppose, in a kind of nerdy way.” He grinned in a cheeky way and his compatriot continued on as if everything was fine. 

“One moment, I will return.” The soft voiced angel flitted into the other room, his footsteps slowly fading from earshot.

Removing his glasses, Crowley let his slitted eyes scan the shelves, finally locating the record player shoved away in the corner. With a grumbling effort, he got up and looked at the record in the player. To his surprise it was not anything classical, but instead Prince’s Purple Rain record. That was indeed interesting. Aziraphale hardly seemed like he was a Prince sort of being, what with the soul of the music being something that Heaven most definitely would not approve of. Perhaps years of being on Earth had finally given him taste.

He flicked the switch on and dropped the needle into place and “Let’s Go Crazy” started playing. With a dramatic flair he once more began lounging on the couch with his legs splayed open. The sounds of Prince sounded through the air and Crowley sang along, 

“All excited but we don't know why  
Maybe it's 'cause we're all gonna die  
And when we do, what's it all for  
Better live now before the grim reaper  
Come knocking on your door”

Go crazy, he only wished he could. Not actually crazy mind you. He didn’t want to be someone shoving heads on pikes or pulling out their own hair. No, the fun kind of crazy where you got drunk and banged your best friend without hesitation. Normally he was a bit more controlled with these thoughts, but the whiskey was running nicely through his system and right now all he wanted to do was pry himself out of these leather pants and beg Aziraphale to have his way with him. Wouldn’t that be a sight? Aziraphale running off to get a book at then coming back to find Crowley naked on his couch. He wondered what the supposedly pure angel would do, would he be repulsed or would he enjoy it.

But no, he didn’t want to alienate the poor dear. He certainly thought that surprise stripping would be a one-way ticket to banishment and considering the fact that he had barely managed to get back in his good graces a loss of Aziraphale was not something he wanted to live through again. The fall didn’t hurt half so much as being unable to speak to him even though he kept seeing him everywhere he went.   
Book in hand and a bottle of wine in the other, Aziraphale returned and blushed deeply upon hearing the record player and seeing Crowley splayed out. That got a wicked grin from the demon as he relished the way that the angel’s blue eyes lingered upon him,

“You have better taste than I gave you credit for,” he said casually, though of course he didn't mean it casually. He was genuinely surprised.

“That- oh that is just a new record. I thought I would give it a shot since it is so popular.” Hurriedly the preppy angel turned off the record player and took a seat next to Crowley, leaning up against him so that their shoulders touched.

“And what do you think of it?” Crowley asked, taking the bottle of wine, popping it open with a twist of his talons in the cork, and snagging two glasses off the shelves where they had left them a previous week.

“I think in the right company it must be lovely,” Aziraphale took the glass of wine and clinked his lightly against Crowley’s, “Cheers then. To good stories.”

The red wine tasted of vanilla and had notes of almond in it, giving it a sweet taste as it slid over Crowley’s tongue. “Now what I enjoy about Lady Windermere’s Fan is that it discusses morality in an interesting way. Take this quote for example, it says “I think life too complex a thing to be settled by these hard and fast rules”. In the context they are talking about the dynamics between men and women, but I feel like the concept of a complicated world is one that we can carry into all of our lives.”

“You mean like a demon and an angel being friends?” Crowley stared at the nape of Aziraphale’s neck, wondering just how fast he could undo that thin blue tie and unbutton the shirt. If he kept drinking like this, he just might give it a shot even if he would regret it later. Another sip of wine went down his throat.

“A bit like that, yes.” Aziraphale shifted in his seat, taking in a deep breath to steady himself. Nervously he licked his lips. “But I always took it to mean that perhaps our concepts of good and evil aren’t quite what you think they are. That perhaps angels can be a bit wicked and perhaps demons can be a bit good. Like the yin-yang concept, but taken in a very literal sense”  
“Demons are never good,” grumbled Crowley, his eyes looking away as he remembered the years of pain and of being told how corrupt he was by everyone but Aziraphale, “Especially not at resisting temptations.”  
“Ah!” The angel’s blue eyes lit up with hope, ““I can resist everything but temptation!” I see you have read this one before.”

The wicked grin returned to Crowley’s face, “Not quite, but I do know temptations well.”

“Oh I know exactly what you mean!” The angel’s face was animated, leaning in closer to Crowley as he gripped the book tightly to his chest, not even bothering to open it, “It is just like Lord Darlington and Lady Windermere is it not?”

“Yeah, sure. Just like them,” Though honestly Crowley had no idea. He had never read this book before in his life and honestly he was wishing he had left the Prince album on rather than being roped into a literary discussion.  
“Do you think she should have run away with him? Left behind her stuffy husband for an exciting new man?” Aziraphale’s face was inches away from Crowley’s and he indulgently breathed in the scent of Cool Water and wine.

“Well it’s probably not the safest idea, but it certainly would be more fun for her and it’s not like her husband would immediately know unless she told him.” Mostly unconsciously, Crowley moved closer, experimentally bumping his crooked nose against Aziraphale’s.

“I was so hoping you would say that,” whispered the other breathlessly as he leaned forward and crossed the remaining space, pressing his lip gently to the other’s.

The feeling was immediate and overwhelming. Thousands of years of pent up emotions all wanted to surface at once. His heart felt like it would burst out of his chest merely from that chaste kiss. Crowley responded back in kind, pressing himself more urgently to the other, moving a hand up to cradle his jaw.

Aziraphale parted lips and gently placed the book on the side table next to the couch, reaching past Crowley who nipped at his ear and bit him down the sides of his neck, earning him a soft laugh. With a giggle Aziraphale responded in kind, snapping his fingers. In an instant both of them were suddenly gendered, both male for this time around, and the windows of the shop were blessedly closed.

“Wait, angel, aren’t you worried about me corrupting you?” Crowley asked in a daze, wondering if this was really happening or it was instead a wonderful dream, feeling his new found manhood twitch to life as the angel’s hands ran over his crotch and he suppressed a moan as teeth bit lightly at his neck.

“Let me worry about that, my dear.” The blond crooned, into his ear, gently digging his nails into the back of his head, “For now, just let me give you this moment. We’ll worry about what will happen later when it is later. I do not think that the world will begrudge us this one moment.”

“All it takes is a moment to fall, angel.” It pained him greatly to stop this close to what he had wanted for thousands of years, but the last thing he wanted on his conscience was to have the grace snuffed out from the light of his life due to his careless desires.

A petulant sigh and a look of annoyance crossed on the angel’s face as he was once more interrupted, “A moment of perfect love and perfect trust will not be begrudged by Heaven. I have checked with several scholars who seem to be of this mind and since the Almighty is keeping mum, I think discretion falls to me. Unless of course, you object?” His heart looked as if it would break through his gaze if the answer was no.

“Angel, I have not objected to this for a couple thousand years,” Crowley answered, kissing him again and again, letting his tongue run over the other man’s lips. The angel responded by stripping out of his suit jacket and tossing it to the side.

Lips met lips and Crowley melted into it, pulling Aziraphale onto his lap, wrapping his legs around the other man. Now that the go ahead was given he didn’t hesitate, rolling his hips gently and feeling the sharp tug of the leather pushing against his cock as he rocked back and forth. Deft hands undid Aziraphale’s tie and unbuttoned his shirt slowly. With each inch of flesh exposed he moved his lips down to kiss the soft flesh, relishing the sheen of hair on the angel’s body.

Blood pulsed through him and his whole body felt like it was on fire as his friend, ran his hand underneath the black shirt to stroke his stomach. Well that would never do with the jacket in the way, so Crowley tossed off his leather jacket flinging it somewhere else. Seeing more flesh exposed, Aziraphale began to run kisses up his arms, starting at his hands and ending with licks at the base of his neck.  
Angelic hands unbuttoned Crowley’s trousers and the little self-restraint he had was gone as Aziraphale wrapped a hand firmly around his shaft, gently squeezing it under the trousers as . A low, deep moan came from his mouth as he reached down to try and free the angel from the restraint of his own trousers.

“No,” Aziraphale moved his hands away, making Crowley hiss with annoyance. “Let me service you first. Then I will claim you.”

“Service, what-“ Crowley began, but Aziraphale was already pulling the black T-shirt over his head and was slowly moving downward with his kisses raining down upon his chest and abs. Oh, that’s what he meant. The angel knelt upon the ground and moved Crowley’s legs to accommodate him. Strong hands pulled his trousers down and Crowley was glad he didn’t wear smallclothes that day. It at first had been merely to uphold his look, but this was so much more pleasant.

His cock, now unrestrained, grew to its full length under the angel’s ministrations. He licked up and down the shaft, causing Crowley to hiss softly with every new contact, closing his eyes because if he had to look at that sight he just might pop off that second. It was all soft, wet, and hot as Aziraphale placed the cock into his mouth.

There it was, that lovely blonde head bobbing up and down on his cock. He leaned back into the couch, bucking his hips experimentally. A soft moan issued from the angel so he did it again. And again. He kept thrusting, digging his taloned hands into Aziraphale’s hair. A passion coiled up in his stomach, in his balls as he moved his hips gratefully against the tongue and eager mouth. His breath echoed raggedly as he cried out Fuck with every thrust, fucking the angel’s face until he came rough and hard with a loud cry. God, he hoped God and Satan heard him cry as well as any of those toughs down at the bar. Hot cum spilled into the angel’s mouth and the sight alone was almost enough to make Crowley cum all over again.   
As his cock wilted and he gasped for air that he didn’t even really need to breathe, Aziraphale spat the whole mess into a bin. Quickly rinsing his mouth with wine, he returned to give Crowley kisses that tasted of cum, grapes, and almonds. Softly he groaned and as Crowley regained a semblance of composure, he moved his hands to unbutton the blue striped trousers that Aziraphale was wearing as the angel shrugged off the unbuttoned shirt he had been wearing.

Aziraphale had given himself a girthier length than Crowley, but not as long. A halo of soft hair surrounded his manhood and under the smallclothes Crowley ran a hand through the curls that were there. “Now it’s your turn, yeah?” The demon raised an eyebrow.

“In a moment,” panted Aziraphale, parting once more and stepping out of his small clothes. He went over to the record player and flipped over the record, letting the sounds of Prince singing “I Would Die 4 U” rain over the bookshop. He returned back the couch, kissing Crowley deeply as they explored each other’s bodies fully. Every inch of skin had to be touched with gently hands and the soft scraping of talons and nails. Gently, the rounder man pushed the thinner one back til the demon lay flat against the couch.

“Think you have the right company for this album now?” Crowley moaned as Aziraphale plunged a finger into his bum.

“None better for it. I might actually enjoy the music now,” quipped the angel. Soft hands guided his hips over, gently teasing the hole til it was properly warmed up. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Crowley and even though Crowley had taken it much rougher from others the last thing he wanted was to have his first time with Aziraphale be over too quickly. Hell’s preferences for what he should do in bed be damned.

As his best friend entered into him, the demon found himself getting strangely emotional. It wasn’t rough lust or anger, that would be understandable. No it was something, soft, delicate even. The kisses that the angel gave him were gentle, twisting things that made him want to cry with how slowly he dragged his lips over the other’s. It was almost as if he was worshipping, like the whole act was an act of ascension that the other was doing. Crowley arched his head back, groaning with pleasure as each thrust brought him closer to a second orgasm.  
“Crowley,” the angel whispered softly, caressing his shoulders, his arms, his neck, “Why you beautiful creature you.”

“I’m not beautiful, angel. You’re just in a sex-induced haze.” Crowley sniped, trying to get that delicate feeling that made him want to cry to leave him.

A lazy smile crossed Aziraphale’s face as he thrust deeply into Crowley, sending a shudder through the demon’s body, “You just think you aren’t because you can’t see yourself now. Sprawled out on my couch, mouth agape, hair splayed out like a halo around you. You are just so good.” His breath came out in ragged gasps, “So kind. So selfless, like a work of art.”

“Art? Like a Michalangelo?” Given their past history, it only seemed fitting even though it was perhaps a bit tacky to bring up an ex in the middle of making love.

“Like a Wilde.” Moaned the book keeper, a devious smile also on his face and undeterred, “Oh sweet Crowley, I love you.”

There it was, the magic phrase that send him shaking and soaring to another orgasm as Aziraphale followed shortly after. Love. A verbal acknowledgment of that which he had felt for so long, moaned in the throes of an act that both had ached to do for ages. Tears, unbidden, not of pain but of beauty sprang to his golden eyes. It was like being forgiven, even if only for a moment.

“Oh. Oh no.” Soft hands touched his angular face, “Crowley are you upset? You are crying.”

“I’m not. Just got a bit of sweat in my eye.” He responded, with a grin surprisingly genuine as he wiped away any traces. Together they lay out on the couch, positively glowing despite the fact that no sunlight could reach them buried as they were in the bookshop. There would be Hell to pay come tomorrow, but today he could grab this small piece of Heaven. This small piece of Heaven who loved him.

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea of Aziraphale trying to seduce Crowley over literature and then having a band he knows Crowley would like be in the record player just in cast his brilliant plan of reading Oscar Wilde didn't work.


End file.
